Three Things
The world's best potato salad, free makeup remover, and something you don't want to hear about
Hiiiiii! Gosh. How is it this time already? Sob. I hate the last week of August. If you’re currently standing in the middle of TJ Maxx evaluating mattress toppers and twin xl sheets while tears pour down your face and fill your empty wallet, you could read this.
Meanwhile! Potato salad. I had occasion to visit with my dear beautiful friend
’s book club last month, which I believe you can watch here.Also, sorry, more parentheticalness: Jenny’s new book comes out today!
And you can buy it here. I literally just got mine today, so I haven’t cooked from it yet? But BOY does everything look delicious and totally approachable. This is the book your newly cooking-for-themselves kids need.
1. Where was I? Oh! Right. Anyways, Jenny had made a list of meals and recipes from my book Sandwich, which was the sweetest thing ever, and she wanted to know more about the potato salad—the one with the dill. Well, I’ve got that recipe for ya, Jenny! It’s the same potato salad that Ben’s college friend Ella’s mom made for the graduation party we hosted in 2022. Other folks were very “Oh, can we bring a bottle of wine?” (Please do!) and Ella’s mom, who is a person accustomed to cooking for church suppers, said, “Oh, can I bring potato salad for 50?” She literally wrote that in a text. And I wept with gratitude. Also, it was the best potato salad anyone had ever eaten, and she sent me the recipe, and I’ve been making it obsessively ever since. (As has Michael’s dad.)
Is the recipe a little *particular*? Yes. Yes it is. But is it worth it? Also yes. Just roll with the exactitude because who knows whence comes the alchemical deliciousness?
Dill Potato Salad
[Hi! This is me, Catherine, writing a headnote, though I am going to try not to fuss with the recipe too much. Any suggestions I make will be in square brackets, just like these. Thank you so much for sharing, Ella’s mom Sara!]
¼ cup white wine vinegar
3 tablespoons minced fresh dill (plus 1/2 cup leaves and stems, chopped coarse for the sachet)
3 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch pieces [okay, tbh, I don’t usually peel the potatoes]
Salt and pepper
½ cup mayonnaise
¼ cup sour cream
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
3 scallions, green parts only, sliced thin [I’m going to call this optional]
[I always add 1 cup of sliced celery, and I sometimes add 1/2 cup sliced pepperoncini]
Combine vinegar and 1 tablespoon minced dill in bowl and microwave until steaming, 30 to 60 seconds. Set at room temperature until cool, 15 to 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, place chopped dill inside disposable coffee filter or cheese cloth and tie closed with kitchen twine to make the sachet. [Hi! Sorry. I don’t do this? I just put the unchopped dill stems into the boiling potatoes and fish them out of the colander later.]
Bring potatoes, dill sachet, 1 tablespoon salt [2 of kosher], and enough water to cover by 1 inch to boil in large pot over high heat. Reduce heat to medium and simmer until potatoes are just tender, about 10 minutes.
Drain potatoes thoroughly, then transfer to large bowl; discard sachet. Drizzle 2 tablespoons dill vinegar over hot potatoes and gently toss until evenly coated. Refrigerate until cooled, about 30 minutes, stirring once. [I literally set a timer and do this exactly as instructed.]
Whisk mayonnaise, sour cream, remaining dill vinegar, mustard, 1/2 teaspoon salt [I use 1 teaspoon kosher salt], and 1/4 teaspoon pepper together until smooth. If you like a little crunch, add some chopped celery also. [Definitely!]
Add dressing to cooled potatoes. Stir in scallions and remaining 2 tablespoons minced dill. Cover and refrigerate to let flavors meld, about 30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve. (Salad can be refrigerated for up to 2 days.)
2. Free, upcycled makeup remover: Okay, it’s not the remover itself. (I love this one for the eyeliner I wear twice a week.) It’s the. . . thingies you use it on. Jesus. The cotton. . . pads? That can’t be the right word. Is it though? The cotton. . . wipers. Fuck. Anyways, you can see with your own made-up or makeup-free eyes what it is! It’s a clean cotton t-shirt too stained or thread-bare to be worn or donated, cut into strips and then squares. Mine are roughly 3 by 3 inches (or maybe 4 by 4? They’re upstairs and I’m too lazy to go get one and measure it), but you can make them whatever size you like. I LOVE the thriftiness. And if you’re at all inclined to make them, then you will too. Plus, I love cutting with scissors while I’m watching TV or feeling slightly introverted in a chatty group. Now all you need is your mother’s big frosted-glass bottle of Clinique Clarifying Lotion 2!
[Editing to add: I throw these out after use! I don’t make them to be yet another thing I have to wash and dry and fish out of the drain-hose filter at 4 in the morning on my hands and knees in the flooded basement, ha ha.]
3. The unspeakable thing has to do with zucchini, sorry, I know. But it’s this: you can long-cook it, and it’s utterly delicious that way. When, for example, my mother sent me home with a zucchini big enough to smash a watermelon with if you were playing some kind of deranged vegetal softball, I long-cooked half of it. (With the other half I made these fritters, which are always excellent, and which I serve with mint-cilantro chutney.)
Here’s what I think makes a difference: you need the squash to be firm and fresh (obvs), and you want each piece to have a little green on it. So cut the zucchini crosswise into 1-inch rounds, then stack these and cut them into skinny strips that are tipped on two sides with green. Does that make sense? This avoids the horribleness of pieces that are entirely formed from the pale spongy inside. If your zucchini has lots of big, developing seeds, I would think about discarding some if that inner alien yuck.
Now heat some olive oil (like, 1/3 cup) in a Dutch oven (or another large, heavy pot or pan with a lid) over medium-low heat, then add a nice big knob of butter, a few smashed garlic cloves, a pinch of pepper flakes. When the garlic is just starting to turn golden and is very fragrant, add as much zucchini as you can fit in the pot, along with a teaspoon or so of Kosher salt. Cook the zucchini, stirring occasionally, until it is starting to go limp, then cover the pot and cook, continuing to stir occasionally, until it is breaking down and turning almost jam-like, around 45 minutes. You can take the lid off towards the end if there’s still a lot of liquid that needs to cook away. Taste for salt and eat as is or use it to top toast then add a slice of cheese and broil until the cheese is melted. It would also be great as a pizza topping or sandwich filling.
Go ahead and call it Melting Garlic-Butter Zucchini. I mean, why not?
Love you guys. Good luck with the season of good-byes.
xo
My two kids still at home eat alllllmost anything. Except potatoes. Alas. The one at college eats potatoes, but not tacos. How can one not love potatoes and tacos?
In other news, my teen son rated me 6/10 this week, which I think translates to three out of five stars. I'm making a T-shirt with Three Star Parent on the front and Yelp style reviews on the back. "Too many rules!" "Your music is too loud!" A giant eye rolling emoji. But I need more suggestions for the reviews and thought perhaps I could speed up the process by crowd sourcing them here. What makes YOU a three star parent?
Thanks for these suggestions. I am enjoying Sandwich so much and want to read it for the rest of my life. This Substack may be an adequate replacement 😀